Forty-two years ago, Amber was sent to Weight Watchers. She was 12 years old and had to lose 16 pounds. Why? Because her mother said so, that’s why. Amber’s mother was sensitive about weight, or as Amber says: vain. She was always watching her weight, and watching Amber’s as well. Amber didn’t actually have any extra weight to watch, but that didn’t stop her mother from watching. Whatever those 16 pounds represented to Amber’s mother, they weren’t reflective of any actual excess. In fact it was years before Amber had any excess weight. But as taught, she watched for it.
If you watch for something long enough, eventually it appears.
Weight Watchers is the mother of all diet programs, and the favorite diet program of a lot of mothers. According to Weight Watchers International, Inc., Weight Watchers was started in 1961 by Jean Nidetch, a housewife from Queens, N.Y., who began by inviting friends into her home once a week to talk about losing weight. After becoming discouraged with a free diet clinic sponsored by the New York City Board of Health, she called some overweight friends and “admitted her cookie obsession.” Her friends reciprocated with their “Frankensteins,” Jean’s term for food obsessions. In her estimation the keys for weight loss were “empathy, rapport, and mutual understanding.”1 Okay. Soon she was squeezing 40 portly people into her apartment for weekly support-group meetings. Jean lost 70 pounds and gained a lot of friends. Upon incorporating Weight Watchers in 1963, she held her first public meeting in a rented loft space with 50 chairs. Four hundred fat people showed up.2
In 1978, Weight Watchers International was sold to the H.J. Heinz Company. In 1999 Heinz sold part of Weight Watchers to a private equity firm in Luxembourg for $735 million. In 2001 Weight Watchers went public.3 Their financial history is more complicated than their points system. Even with financial difficulties over the last decade, Weight Watchers has annual sales of about $2 billion, give or take some millions. It now has more than a million members who attend 29,000 meetings in 27 countries.4 They sell a lot of stuff, much of it produced by H.J. Heinz—yes, the ketchup people. (Ketchup, by the way, is notoriously high in sugar).
Weight Watchers is a successful company, but is it a successful program? That depends on who you ask. Its public-relations department claims: “Research shows that people who attend Weight Watchers meetings lose three times more weight than [those who diet on their own].”5 One study found it was more like twice as much. That’s still not bad, except when you consider that the research was for a one-year period without follow-up. Another study including several other weight loss programs found that the average weight loss for Weight Watchers participants in the course of a year was just over 6.5 pounds. It was only the third most effective compared to Atkins, Ornish, and The Zone diets.6 Third out of four … not so good. But truly, what does any of this matter if the weight loss doesn’t stick?
In the “British Journal of Nutrition,” Michael R. Lowe assessed the long-term success of 699 lifetime Weight Watchers members. Lowe reports that 79.8 percent of the study participants maintained at least 5 percent of their losses after one year, 71 percent after two years and 50 percent after five years. The success rate for participants maintaining a weight below their original goal weight was reported as 26.5 percent, 20.5 percent and 16.2 percent for one, two and five years, respectively. The participants polled, however, represent a sampling of some of the most successful Weight Watchers members.7
Did you get that? After five years about 50 percent of the most successful Weight Watchers members kept off at least 5 percent of the weight they lost. Roughly, if a person loses seven pounds in a year, after five years they will have kept off about half a pound. But that’s only 50 percent of the people who lost the seven pounds. They kept off half a pound. Also, what happens to the other 50 percent? According to Women’s Health Magazine, researchers at the University of California at Los Angeles analyzed 31 long-term diet studies and found that about two-thirds of dieters regained more weight within four or five years than they initially lost.8 Apparently 50 percent put back on those seven pounds plus, and somewhere in the neighborhood of 15 percent are using one of those scales where you weigh less if you lean forward. But hey, that’s not everybody. There seems to be no indication in the Weight Watchers literature that Jean Nidetch gained it back. Well done, Jean.
Back to Amber. Throughout high school she was average weight, though her mother refused to buy her a dress for the senior prom if she didn’t lose 10 pounds. Vain. In college Amber gained about 20 or 30 pounds (though was still “within acceptable range”). She was seriously active. She biked and hiked, played softball and swam, she camped and whitewater rafted. She ran a triathlon (you heard right). But if for some reason there was a lag in her activity, for instance the time she broke her leg, she put on significant weight. And then she lost significant weight. She dieted the way she exercised: seriously. She did Optifast, a medical liquid fast (her mother paid for it), and was a long time member of Overeaters Anonymous (OA). In OA she lost 175 pounds, which meant at some point she had put on 175 pounds. Seriously.
Without going into a long diatribe about Optifast and other “medical liquid diets,” this is not your supermarket Slim-Fast. (By the way, Optifast is owned by Société des Produits Nestlé S.A. Right, the Nestlé Corporation. And Slim-Fast is owned by Unilever, which also owns Ben & Jerry’s and is an arch competitor of Nestlé). Optifast is a complete meal replacement program under “medical supervision.” What “medical” means depends on where you get the program. According to the Optifast homepage, “Optifast works because it offers a different path—one that’s clinically proven to help people achieve long-term weight management.” Then there is an asterisk. After the asterisk it says: “For many dieters, weight loss is only temporary.”9 Let’s gloss over the temporary bit and go right to the organ damage part.
These kinds of liquid diets provide between 400 and 800 calories per day. The American College of Sports Medicine recommends that the minimum caloric intake should never be less than 1200 calories per day for women and 1800 for men; consuming fewer calories triggers the body to digest muscle.10 NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) considers eating fewer than 1000 calories per day an indication of anorexia nervosa, which can cause damage to vital organs such as the heart, kidneys, and brain.11 But clearly those organs are not that vital since you can never be too rich or too thin.
When dieting, Amber felt like she was in control. She loved to diet—“the minute I say no to something I want I feel empowered.” On Optifast she could only consume protein shakes several times a day. When the program began to introduce food, she cried hysterically. Once she started to eat, she feared she would never be able to stop. She knew that was the beginning of the end. In Overeaters Anonymous she ate no sugar or flour. In control, she lost those aforementioned 175 pounds. One day, for no particular reason, another OA member, very thin, asked Amber:
“What’s your goal?”
“To be happy and healthy.”
“No, what do you want to weigh?”
“I think I’m happy the way I am.”
“Really, what do you weigh now?”
“150.”
“150? That’s more than me and I’m taller than you!”
“… oh.”
The next day was this woman’s birthday and at her party she had a big ‘ol sugary, floury cake. “Hey, we aren’t supposed to eat that, are we?” asked Amber as her friend took a giant bite. That was the beginning of the end. Amber ate some cake too and never stopped. Those 175 pounds she had lost? She found them.
OA is just what you think it is—a 12-step program for “over-eaters.” It is an offshoot of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and is run based on the same principles and formula. Though they have some of their own literature targeted to food issues, they also use “The Big Book,” the primary text of AA, substituting words like food for alcohol and eating for drinking. OA uses the addiction model, just as AA does. So OA members are “food addicts.” What food addict means exactly is subject to interpretation, but as far as OA is concerned, it means an “admission of powerlessness over food,” the first step. The meetings, the anonymity, the higher power, the slogans—“one day at a time” and “it works if you work it”—and the rest of the program, are essentially the same.12 There is one fundamental difference: abstinence. Abstinence, which is a key part of any 12-step program, means something a bit different in OA than AA. The term is still used, though it does not mean abstaining from eating altogether (obviously), and different subgroups within OA define it differently.
You can’t abstain from eating. Because of this, OA gets a bit complicated. In general, abstinence means abstaining from overeating. The focus is not on losing weight, though that is clearly the goal of many, if not most, of the members. The goal is to “change your relationship with food” and stop behaviors like obsessing about food, compulsive eating, binge eating, and whatever else you individually perceive to be your problem. Sub-groups of OA take abstinence much farther and include strict practices like weighing and measuring food and cutting out things like sugar, white flour, and processed foods from your diet entirely. Each OA group has its own culture. Some are quite relaxed and some are what might be considered aggressive. Some groups permit anyone to participate and others require a certain period of abstinence first. Some let you eat what you want and just offer support; others demand adherence to their food protocols. People’s perception of OA also runs the gamut, from believing OA is a lifesaving support program, to believing it is a dangerous cult. Along those lines, some people believe OA cures addiction while others believe it merely substitutes one addiction for another. Your mileage may vary.
When you gain and lose and gain and lose that much weight as many times as Amber did, things stretch. Perhaps more than the weight itself, what Amber is most uncomfortable with is the sagging. “I sag all over, everything sags. My breasts are like pendulums.” One breast aficionado mentions the assets of pendulum-like breasts—he points out that he can put them both in his mouth at the same time. Amber doesn’t know this man. That’s a shame.
Her romantic life, or at least her sex life, was a lot like her eating life—all or nothing. When she was thin, she had a lot of partners; she doesn’t quantify a lot, but we know she’s serious. When she was fat, she had none. She said there were none available. But at this point, she was having sex for approval and any armchair psychologist would conclude others won’t accept you until you accept yourself. Right? Actually, none isn’t entirely true. She did have sex with men when she was fat. A few years ago she ran into a man and he asked: “Do you remember me?” She didn’t, but apparently she had slept with him in the back of a van. She also had a long-term relationship that started when she was thin and ended when she was fat. He did a lot of screwing around. Not exactly the approval she was looking for.
She had a second long-term relationship some years later. This man was less of a, say, cad. Or asshole. He was what Amber describes as a “fat-not-minder,” someone who is okay with fat but has no preference for it. Perhaps because Amber herself minded her fat, this didn’t sit well with her. She never felt comfortable with him not minding her fat; to be honest, she didn’t believe him. How could she, considering that whole “accepting yourself “conundrum plaguing her?
There were incidents in her life that supported her sense that men really minded fat. She interviewed for a job once while in a fat phase and in the interview felt invisible. Sometime later she interviewed with the same man again. This was in a thin phase, and he could, proverbially, barely keep it in his pants. He had no idea she was the same woman, because after all, she wasn’t. The first woman was invisible.
When Internet dating first came on the scene, Amber tried it, but every man wanted slim, thin, slender, athletic. She was in fact athletic, hidden under her fat. She didn’t think that’s what they had in mind. It was when the BBW dating sites appeared that she saw possibility. These men didn’t mind fat women; her perception was they too were fat-not-minders. It was more than her perception really—she asked them.
In the dating advice column Ask Evan, Evan Marc Katz, a “personal trainer for women who want to fall in love,” Evan responds to a question from a woman who is 5’2,” a dress size 10, and admittedly not toned and athletic. She wanted to know why men don’t reply to her online ads in which she honestly describes herself as having “a few extra pounds” or being “curvy.” He explains: “In their attempts to be honest (but not scare off men), women will click on descriptors like “a few pounds extra”, “curvy”, or “voluptuous.” All are considered euphemisms for “fat” by men.” Hey, Evan, everyone is lying, so why should I be honest? According to Evan, you shouldn’t. “Why? Because telling the truth is a FAILING strategy.” “You have to be asking yourself—is it REALLY in my best interests to tell the truth if 95% of guys are going to dismiss me for doing so?”13 Uh, you’ve got a point there, Evan. The response MIGHT be that it’s only the other five percent of men that I want anything to do with. I already have an asshole.
Actually, according to the minds behind dating site OKCupid, weight is not the biggest thing people lie about; or not one of the top four anyway. First is height, then income, next is providing an accurate picture that depicts current age, and finally sexual preference—more people claim to be bisexual than actually are.14
WelcomeToDating.com, a site about dating sites, claims 90 percent of people lie on their online profiles.15 They do say weight is a subject frequently lied about, but people are inclined to put a weight they once were—and could conceivably be again—hopefully before the first date. Professor Jeffrey Hall of the University of Kansas found that the people most likely to lie online are the same ones who would lie in person. Men lie more than women, but women lie more about weight.16 Ellen McCarthy of the Washington Post says small lies are commonplace on dating sites, but predicts that as these sites are more connected to social networking sites, and the truth is more difficult to conceal, we will all become more honest dating citizens.17
As Amber did.
Amber met an “FA.” FA? Yes, FA. A “Fat Admirer.” There are other terms you may be familiar with to describe this sort of person. Chubby Chaser. BBW Lover. A man who has a predilection for Chunky Monkeys. Or as The Village Voice so eloquently put it: “Guys who like fat chicks.”
“Would you still love me if I got thin?”
Amber’s lover packs her treats. Care packages laced with special cookies she likes and other sweets. She is not certain if he is trying to maintain her physique or just being thoughtful. Perhaps a little of both. Either way, it is a new experience. Amber feels comfortable walking around naked for the first time in her life. It’s true abandon, freedom. Is that entirely because of her FA lover’s appreciation for her body, or a newfound appreciation for herself? Perhaps a little of both. Either way it is a new experience.
Remember how Amber didn’t have sex when she was fat? She is having lots of sex now, fat. It’s different sex too. To have someone fully appreciate her body is another new experience. There are no areas left untouched. Jiggling is encouraged. To fully understand the magnitude of this, one has to truly grasp the idea of a FA. A Fat Admirer. An admirer of fat. A guy who likes fat chicks. That’s like a guy who likes thin chicks, only with fat. They lust for big woman. All the curves, bumps, rolls, and flesh.
Is this a fetish, you may ask yourself? Because Amber did—she was very uncomfortable at first. There’s a nebulous area between the slight insult of the fat-not-minder and the slight insult of being someone’s fetish. Or is there? Amber’s lover has been attracted to large women since as early as he can remember. So is being a FA a fetish or just a preference? It’s a preference, her lover would say. Amber is not instinctively a true believer. It’s a leap of faith. But so what? If you’re happy and you know it ….
So, again: “Would you still love me if I got thin?” He responds, “It’s not just about the fat.” She believes him.
That said, nothing in life is a fairytale, damn it.
Here’s the rub. While for the first time in her life she is the queen, for the first time in her life he is not the king. He’s older, by enough that it shows. She didn’t want a romantic relationship at first. She was uncomfortable with his age. That cold hard shoe on the other foot. She feels guilty. Is she the asshole now? Well, no. Because she is mature enough to realize what is important in a relationship. She is clapping her hands.
If this relationship were to end for whatever reason, would she seek out a FA again? She doesn’t know the answer to that, but Amber feels as she goes on with life, she will no longer be concerned with the judgment of others and never put herself in a situation where she is mistreated. So, is unconditional love something given to her by her lover, or is it something she has accepted for herself? Perhaps a little of both. Either way it is a new experience.
Before her death, Amber’s mother went into a rage. “I hate you for being fat! I hate you, I hate you.” That is more than vanity. The wounds for both of them were deep. But if there is anything that can soothe a deep wound, it’s the gentle words from someone who loves you—just the way you are.
Even so, Amber would still like to lose weight. She believes she would feel better. She believes she would be healthier. Let’s be honest—she believes she would look better. Though that sense is not as strong as when she was younger. Gentle words are soothing, but deep wounds are difficult to heal. However, Amber no longer diets. Dieting was killing her. Her mother died from dieting, in more ways than one.
1 “Weight Watchers Celebrates 50th Anniversary by Honoring Its Founder - Jean Nidetch - with a Flagship Center Dedication.” Weight Watchers. http://www.weightwatchers.com/about/prs/wwi_template.aspx?GCMSID=1405901.
2 “The History of Weight Watchers.” Weight Watchers. http://www.dwlz.com/WWinfo/historyofww.html.
3 Freeman, Sholnn. “Heinz Selling Its Weight Watchers Units.” The New York Times. July 23, 1999. http://www.nytimes.com/1999/07/23/business/heinz-selling-its-weight-watchers-unit.html.
4 “Weight Watchers FAQs.” Weight Watchers. http://www.weightwatchersinternational.com/phoenix.zhtml?c=130178&p=irol-faq.
5 “Weight Watchers at Work Meetings.” Weight Watchers. January 1, 2006. https://www.weightwatchers.com/images/1033/dynamic/GCMSImages/WW_EE_ATW.pdf.
6 “Weight Watchers at Work Meetings.” Weight Watchers. January 1, 2006. https://www.weightwatchers.com/images/1033/dynamic/GCMSImages/WW_EE_ATW.pdf.
7 Lowe, MR, et al. “Weight-loss Maintenance 1, 2 and 5 Years after Successful Completion of a Weight-loss Programme.” US National Library of Medicine. November 28, 2007. http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/18042306.
8 Wolpert, Stuart. “Dieting Does Not Work, UCLA Researchers Report.” UCLA Newsroom. April 3, 2007. http://newsroom.ucla.edu/releases/Dieting-Does-Not-Work-UCLA-Researchers-7832
9 “Optifast.” Nestle Health Science. January 1, 2013. https://www.optifast.com/Pages/index.aspx.
10 “Metabolism Is Modifiable with the Right Lifestyle Changes.” American College of Sports Medicine. http://www.acsm.org/about-acsm/media-room/acsm-in-the-news/2011/08/01/metabolism-is-modifiable-with-the-right-lifestyle-changes.
11 “Anorexia Nervosa.” National Alliance on Mental Illness. https://www.namimi.org/node/320.
12 “Twelve Steps.” Overeaters Anonymous. http://www.oa.org/newcomers/twelve-steps/.
13 Katz, Evan Marc. “Why Men Don’t Write to Curvy Women on the Internet.” Evan Marc Katz Blog. http://www.evanmarckatz.com/blog/online-dating-tips-advice/why-men-dont-write-to-curvy-women-on-the-internet/.
14 Rudder, Christian. “The Big Lies People Tell in Online Dating.” OK Trends. July 7, 2010. http://blog.okcupid.com/index.php/the-biggest-lies-in-online-dating/.
15 Shapiro, Molly. “Online Dating: Why Most of Us Just Won’t Do It, and Why We Should.” Huffington Post. April 2, 2012. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/molly-shapiro/online-dating-_b_1382660.html.
16 Hanna, Jason. “Online Dating Liars: Why They Do It.” CNN. March 5, 2010. http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/03/05/online.dating.liars/.
17 McCarthy, Ellen. “Small Lies about Height or Weight Are Frequently on Online Dating Profiles.” The Washington Post. December 20, 2009. http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/12/18/AR2009121801705.html.